


Ghosts of Days Gone By

by sunderjo6



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, POV Sam Winchester, Phobias, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1294516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunderjo6/pseuds/sunderjo6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been 23 years since they last saw Cas.</p>
<p>Sam doesn't know how much longer Dean will survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts of Days Gone By

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song by Alter Bridge

Sometimes it seems like he doesn’t know just how solemn he looks to everyone around him. Strangers find no business of theirs in mentioning it—just another lonely guy—and those he knows stopped talking about it a long time ago. It’s been years. There’s no sense bringing it up again now. Perhaps if they’d pushed him years ago, if they’d gotten him to release his anger in some way, maybe then...

  
Sometimes he just drifts away sitting in the living room or on the porch or standing at the window, like he’s looking hopelessly, not really believing anything will happen. The frown lines deepen.

  
Sometimes he looks like he’s remembering—when he disappears into his mind like that—everything that happened, everything he went through. He’s never really dealt with it to anyone’s knowledge. For decades it has been sitting, stewing in his mind, occasionally stirred up and muddied by some falling piece of paper or a glance at a knife.

  
He hasn’t cooked in years, hasn’t cut his own meat. He won’t go out to eat even to diners. It’s no shock that he won’t pick up a gun, but the little things are concerning, because the little things are the big things. They are the things that remind him about that one day so many years ago.

  
Of all of it, his friends could manage, his brother could leave him alone, except for one. Dean has not set foot in the Impala since that day. Won’t even go near it. Absolutely refuses. It’s just one more thing everyone silently agreed after the first year or two to stop pushing. He won’t even get angry anymore. Such a short-tempered man gone completely soft with the stains of his own hidden tears. He knows they know about the crying he hasn’t stopped doing in 23 years. It was the last straw in leaving Dean to himself in spite of their better judgment.

  
Sam sits on the front porch like every Thursday night at sunset and nurses his fifth beer of the day. For every drink Dean stopped drinking, Sam started. He sits, and he drinks, and he poignantly does not pray for answers. He couldn’t be forced with anything. If praying was meant to work in this situation it would have worked 23 years ago.

  
He lets his mind drift like Dean does, and eventually lands on the certainty that is their future. He will always sit on the porch and watch the sunset on Thursdays. Dean will never eat a proper meal again. They will live permanently estranged from each other, and from the world, yet they will die together. At least there’s that to look forward to. Sam is thinking he might fall asleep in front of the purpling sky when the door slams open against the wall behind him. Dean stands in the doorway with wide eyes that eventually settle on his brother. Sam thinks maybe, maybe he’s finally going to have his outburst, but he keeps the look of hope off his face. Instead, Dean smiles. The last bits of the sun are golden in his eyes.

  
“I’m going now,” he says. Sam can’t hide his shock at the realization of what that statement means when he stands to hug his brother. “I’m sorry I—”

  
“No,” Sam says. “Get out of here. You’ve waited too long for me to hold you back.”

  
He returns Dean’s smile as he lets go. Dean starts to walk back into the house with purpose.

  
“Wait!” Sam pauses for a moment as Dean turns around impatiently. “Tell Cas I said hi.”


End file.
